


Heart's Blood

by astraplain



Category: Gorgeous Carat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florian wants a painting, a beautiful young widow wants Florian, and Ray must choose between a rare red emerald and his Amethyst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart's Blood

Florian knows the signs well - the newspaper folded precisely, the piles of books, all open or marked with whatever was at hand – research for another "acquisition". He sighs and picks up the stack of letters and bills piled messily on "his" corner of the desk.

He carries them to the smaller desk in the corner, the tidy one with blotter carefully centered and writing supplies kept neatly in their place. He settles in, separating everything into three piles. The first are invitations and visitation requests that require polite refusals. The second, much smaller pile is for acceptances. The third is for bills and other items requiring immediate response.

It takes Florian the better part of the morning to finish his work and it is only after he's sent Luc off to the post office that he leans back and rubs his eyes.

The desk is near a window but the sky is overcast and promising rain. Florian double-checks the ledger and places his pen back in the holder before standing. He stretches, working the stiffness out of his back before carrying the ledger across the room and placing it on Ray's desk. It will be checked after lunch and if errors are found he'll be spending his evening in the cellar again.

The thought makes him grimace as he leaves the study, closing the door behind him. Bookkeeping is hardly his forte but Ray insisted that he take over Jean-Paul's secretarial duties. Florian allows himself a bit of satisfaction knowing that his handwriting is neater and he is better at writing polite refusals. Jean-Paul's better suited to running errands anyway; his sense of direction is infallible.

In truth, Florian is just glad to be useful. He knows he's not brilliant like Ray, but he does try to contribute when he can, and not just because he's earning his keep. He hates the forced idleness of the nobility, passing time surrounded by chatter and gossip. Living with Ray, he has none of the artificial barriers of class that isolated him and his mother in their crumbling home.

Ray still insists on some comforts, however, including a maid and a cook. He even permits Laila's experiments in the kitchen although he never eats them. In truth, he's rather tolerant of the entire household doing as they please as long as his orders are followed precisely and his cigars are stocked.

Florian pauses, mid-way down the hall and considers. Actually, he's the one Ray makes the most demands of. Perhaps because Florian is the newest addition to the group, having been there only two years. Florian scowls and continues towards the dining room. Perhaps it's just because Ray thinks he's a trouble magnet. Which isn't exactly fair, even if it does seem true on the surface.

Florian smiles and settles down at his place at the dining table. He's dining early because he's got an appointment this afternoon. When Ray hired a tutor for Noel, it was with the stipulation that he would spend part of his time with Florian as well, discussing art, music, history or whatever caught their interest. Monsieur Renault was delighted with the prospect and plans weekly outings for his two charges. Today they are visiting the art museum to see the works on loan from a wealthy American woman.

Florian kept the newspaper article about the exhibit and pulls it from his pocket to re-read while he eats. There is a picture of the woman responsible for the exhibit standing in front of one of the paintings. The caption identifies her as Miranda Harrison, a recent widow who built the large art collection with her late husband during their European honeymoon two years ago. The picture shows her to be young and strikingly beautiful, with large, dark eyes. Florian wonders if they will see her at the museum this afternoon.

Checking the time, he hurries to finish his meal and carries his dishes into the kitchen where Noel is waiting, a half-eaten cookie in his hand.

"Florian!" he cheers, waving with the cookie. "Monsieur Renault wants us to meet him at the car. He's going to drive and said I could sit up front if it's okay with you."

"Only if you promise to stay in your seat while we're moving," Florian counters, taking up a wet cloth and wiping the boy's hands. "Finish your cookie and go get cleaned up. You'll need your warm coat."

Noel takes off in a hurry to get ready and Florian offers Laila a smile. "We'll be back by four if Ray wants to go over any papers before dinner." Laila waves him off, wishing him a good time. She accompanies them occasionally, but declined this time, claiming she had work to do.

Florian freshens up and puts on his coat before joining an impatient Noel in the front hall. He scoops the boy up and runs to the waiting car, both of them laughing as they settle in for the ride.

Renault points out streets and buildings as landmarks as he drives. Florian knows one of the things Ray had stipulated was that Florian and Noel learn their way around the city. For a seven-year-old, Noel can navigate fairly well. It's Florian that seems to be hopeless - he has no sense of direction at all. Instead, he settles for memorizing landmarks and hoping for the best.

It appears to be paying off a little. Florian recognizes their route to the museum including the intersection that would take them to Ray's favorite bookstore. He and Noel wave to the familiar vendors on the corner and smile at a woman walking with her little girl.

The streets are crowded and they have to park on the side of the museum and walk around to the front where small clusters of people are gathered to exchange greetings. Renault leads them around the groups and into the building, Noel holding tight to Florian so neither of them go astray.

They bypass the usual rooms, heading straight for the Harrison exhibit. It is more crowded than usual for this time of day so Renault leads them through the maze of rooms towards the back of the exhibit where there are fewer patrons. One of them, however, Florian recognizes immediately.

The newspaper picture had not done Miranda Harrison justice. Indeed, she is beautiful, but seeing her in person, Florian is struck by her vitality. She moves quickly but with grace, and her eyes are alight with interest, and perhaps a flash of mischief. She glances his way, catching his eyes, and he turns away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

"Excuse me." Her voice is soft and pleasant. "Forgive me for being forward, but I believe I have your painting." She extends her hand first to Florian, "Miranda Harrison." She nods briefly to Renault and Noel before gripping Florian's arm and towing him off to an adjacent room without waiting for an introduction.

As soon as they cross the threshold, Florian falters. There, on the center of the opposite wall is his parents' wedding portrait. It was one of the last items his mother sold before her death.

Standing in front of the magnificent full-sized painting, Florian's vision blurs. He has nothing left of his family or home. Seeing this familiar image makes his heart ache.

"Are they your mama and papa?" Noel asks, reaching up to take Florian's hand. The boy is extremely sensitive to his guardian's moods. "The man looks like you."

"Yes they are," Florian answers quietly, reaching down to pick Noel up. "See, they're in their wedding clothes, and back there," Florian points to the distant view visible through what had been the drawing room window in their country estate. "There was a maze and flower gardens. I used to play in them when I was your age."

"So you are Monsieur Rochefort. " Miranda says happily. "I knew it."

"Florian," he replies, finally able to introduce himself. "And my companions, Monsieur Renault and Master Tassel."

Renault bows to the woman and Noel says, "hi" before demanding, "Why do you have a painting of Florian's mama and papa?"

"We couldn't keep it," Florian explains quietly. "So my mother arranged for it to be put in a shop where it could be bought by someone who would like looking at it." Florian offers a weak smile. "It's very nice of Madame Harrison to let other people see it too, isn't it Noel?"

"Yes." Noel agrees with a nod. "Thank you, Madame Harrison."

"You are quite welcome, Master Tassel." She touches Florian's arm. "I am sorry if I made you sad..." She hesitates then asks, "It's 'Duke du Rochefort' is it not?"

"Just Florian, please, Madame. I prefer not to use my title."

"As you wish, of course." She looks at the painting again, then back at the sad young man. "The collection will be here for another three weeks. If you'll give your address to the curator, I'll see the portrait is returned to you at that time."

Florian gasps, shocked by her generous offer. "Oh, no," he protests, blushing. "I couldn't... buy it back from you, Madame."

"And I wouldn't dream of asking you to. It would be a gift."

Florian takes a half-step back, blushing harder. "I couldn't..."

Miranda Harrison is a perceptive woman. She connects all the pieces before her with bits of gossip she's heard and realizes the young man's dilemma. "An exchange then," she offers. "I am in need of an escort for several events while I am in Paris. You attend the theatre, don't you?" Florian nods slowly, but his blush doesn't fade. "I will have to ask..."

"Your patron." She finishes for him and offers a reassuring smile. "Give me your address and I shall ask him myself." She leans a bit closer and lowers her voice as if confiding a secret. "I'm afraid I'm an uncouth American, unfit for Paris society. You'd be doing me a tremendous favor, Florian." Florian's expression softens and Miranda knows she's found the way to persuade him. With his fairness and her dark beauty, they'll be the most striking couple in Paris, drawing attention exactly where she wants it. Now all she has to do is charm the old man who keeps Florian as a pet.

"If you are sure?" Florian sets Noel down and takes one of his name cards from an inner pocket. He accepts the pen Renault offers and writes his address on the back. He hands it to Madame Harrison and returns the pen to Renault with a nod of thanks.

"I shall call on him this evening," she promises and excuses herself to greet other patrons, allowing the men to finish their tour of the exhibit.

*****

"Enter," Ray calls, barely glancing up from his pile of papers. "What?" he demands when Florian doesn't speak immediately.

"We went to the museum today," Florian starts, faltering. "To see the Harrison collection. There was...a portrait..." He trails off at Ray's fearsome glare.

"I have work to do."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just... it was the wedding portrait. My parents. And Madame Harrison says she'll give it to me if I just..." Florian takes a step back as Ray's glare burns into him. "She's coming to talk to you about it tonight. She wants me to escort her to the theatre is all." He takes another step back as Ray stands and moves around the desk. "You know I wouldn't ask... but everything was sold or burned... I don't have anything left..."

Florian is backed against the door now and Ray is leaning in, his hand gently resting against Florian's face. They are breathing each other's air, eyes locked. "I'll listen to what she has to say, but I'm not making any promises."

Florian nods, then whispers, "thank you", as he tilts his head into Ray's touch. Ray leans in closer only to pull away, startled when someone knocks on the door.

"Go rest until dinner," he tells Florian. "Your paperwork is done for today."

Florian nods and leaves the room, passing an impatient Laila on his way out.

"Some lady sent her card." Laila hands the ivory-colored rectangle to Ray. "It says she'll be visiting at 7 this evening. Does this mean we'll need tea and cakes?"

"I suppose, but first I need some information on Miranda Harrison." Ray drops into his desk chair and sighs. The things he does for his Amethyst.

*****

Miranda Harrison and her companion arrive precisely at 7 and are escorted by Laila into Ray's formal drawing room. Tea is laid out but both ladies decline after the introductions and polite formalities are observed.

"Forgive my intrusion, Count Courland." Miranda Harrison has a charming smile and knows how to use it effectively. Ray finds himself smiling back, then having to hide his spark of annoyance. He does not want to be charmed by anyone who has an eye on Florian.

"Florian told me of your meeting, Madame Harrison, and your extremely generous offer." Ray leans forward, just enough to let a hint of warning show. "What I don't understand is your motive."

Agnes Dobbs, the dour-faced companion clears her throat while giving Ray a warning look of her own. Miranda pats her hand soothingly and laughs. "It's no wonder you're so protective of your charge, Count Courland. He is a lovely young man, but so very sad. How could I deny him the painting after it made him smile?"

She waves her hand dismissively before Ray can respond. "But you are a businessman and don't indulge in such sentimentality." She laughs again at his expression and glances at her companion. "I told you, Agnes." She turns her attention back to Ray. "The truth, sir, is that I am a young widow, reasonably attractive, traveling through Europe with a small fortune in artwork. This tends to attract a great deal of attention - especially from men seeking a beautiful, rich wife." She blinks rapidly and her hands flutter for a moment until her companion presses a handkerchief into them. Miranda skims it over her eyes before continuing. "My Robert's been gone nearly a year now, but I miss him every day. That's why I'm here, retracing our honeymoon journey. I have no interest in finding a replacement husband, or even a lover, yet some men seem unable to hear the word 'no'."

She blinks and turns those lovely eyes on Ray with determination. "If I am to appear at a few social events - well publicized social events - with the very handsome Duke Florian du Rochefort as my steady companion, I believe that some of those men will finally be dissuaded. The painting is a small price for some peace, Count Courland."

She drops back against the seat and adds, "I believe I would like a cup of tea now."

Laila has been standing quietly in the back of the room, but she moved forward now to serve. She does so passably, then fades back again to listen.

"Do you have a list of these well publicized social events? I understand you are only here for another three weeks," Ray asks as he takes a cigar from his pocket and motions with it. Miranda nods her permission and he lights up, taking a long draw.

"You are correct. We're leaving in three weeks but before that I have four events I must attend - the Spanish Ambassador's ball, the premiere of that new play, General Whitcomb's birthday soiree and the closing reception for my exhibit. I shall cover all of Florian's expenses for these events, of course, including new clothes and his transportation."

"That won't be necessary," Ray counters smoothly. "Florian's wardrobe is more than adequate, and he shall have the use of my car as I will be attending these events as well."

"Why Count, that is most generous." Miranda sets aside her empty teacup and rises, extending her hand, palm down, for Ray to kiss. "I shall be delighted to have the company of two such gallant gentlemen." She motions to Agnes who hands her a folded piece of ivory stationery. "The address of my hotel as well as the list of events and their dates and times. I shall see you in two days, Count Courland. Please accept my thanks for your generosity."

Ray stands, nodding his acceptance of her thanks as he motions for Laila to escort the women out. He's still standing there when Laila returns several minutes later.

"You're sure you found nothing?" he demands, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. Laila shakes her head and Ray sighs. "Something's off about her but I have no idea what it is. For now we'll just have to wait and keep alert."

Laila nods firmly in agreement and clears away the tea while Ray heads upstairs to give Florian the news.

*****

 

Chapter 2

 

"Stop that," Ray slaps Florian's hand as the blond reaches up to adjust his ascot again. "You look fine."

"I look like a fool," Florian counters. "I hate dressing like this."

"It's hardly that white military uniform," Ray agrees with a smirk, referring to the outfit Florian was wearing the first time they met. "This is the latest fashion and it suits you quite well." He strokes Florian's cheek gently. "Just remember why you're doing this - for your parent's portrait."

Florian nods and gives Ray a grateful smile. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit nervous. The last ball I attended was mother's and that was two years ago." His violet eyes darken with the memory of that ball and what happened in the days after.

"Are you ready?" Ray asks quietly, hoping to bring Florian's thoughts back from those dark places. The blond isn't usually a moper, but he has times when past experiences overwhelm him. This is one of the reasons Ray insisted he spend time with Monsieur Renault. The tutor is patient and kind but doesn't overindulge either of his charges.

"I've already tucked Noel into bed and Laila knows not to let him get away with asking for more than one glass of water." Florian hesitates for a moment as if considering, then nods. "We can go." He follows Ray out to the car and climbs in, gripping the door handle. He's ridden with Ray often enough to know to hold on tight.

Miranda is waiting for them in the lobby of her hotel and greets both men warmly. She nods to Agnes who trails along without speaking or smiling.

"Thank you for being my escort," she tells Florian as he offers her his arm. He smiles and blushes a little as he leads her towards the exit. One thing his mother never compromised was his training in courtly manners.

Florian is a perfect gentleman as he guides Miranda to the car and assists her into the vehicle. He waits for Ray to bring Agnes and assists her as well before climbing into the front passenger seat.

Cars aren't exactly conducive to polite conversation so the group rides in silence to the mansion where the Spanish Ambassador is staying as a guest of Duke Clairmonde.

Ray can't stand the old Duke, although he's done business with him several times. He thinks the man is an officious prig, condescending to everyone . The Duke deeply resents Ray and the fact that he's had to rely on the young man's loans to help pay off some rather large gambling debts. Ray suspects he received an invitation to tonight's ball only because the Duke was sure that Ray wouldn't attend. Seeing the Duke's reaction to his presence will be a bright spot in what promises to be a very dull evening.

Pulling up in front of the mansion, Ray turns off the car and hands the key to the attendant. He rounds the vehicle and waits as Florian assists both ladies as they disembark. Taming his frown, Ray offers his arm to Agnes and leads her to join the others ascending the flight of steps into the mansion.

Presenting his invitation, Ray helps Agnes with her wrap before handing his overcoat to the waiting servant. When Florian and Miranda have done the same, they join the short line of people waiting to be announced.

"Finally," Ray mutters once they are inside the crowded ballroom. "I need a drink."

"Miranda?" Florian asks solicitously. "Mademoiselle Agnes? May I get either of you a drink?"

"Thank you, no." Miranda answers, taking his arm. "I'm sure Count Courland will see that Agnes is attended to. I'd very much like it if you would permit me a dance."

"It would be my privilege," Florian responds, leading Miranda away while Ray tries not to fume. Seeing Florian settle his hand on Miranda's hip, Ray turns away to look at Agnes. "This way," he barks and half-drags her off to get something to drink.

Only the fact that he has to drive keeps Ray from drinking himself numb. Agnes follows him like a pathetic stray and no matter where they go Ray hears people talking about him, or Florian. As they are rarely seen at social events like this, it is easy to forget how vicious the gossip can be. But now, with Florian and Miranda never leaving the dance floor, refusing all offers for other dance partners, the gossip is in full force.

One half-deaf old woman, dripping twice her weight in jewelry makes her opinions known to anyone within shouting distance, which unfortunately includes Ray. She pronounces him a loan sharking deviant with a taste for young men. Miranda is painted as a black widow, luring men only for her pleasure.

Ray listens to it, unnoticed, until the woman dares mention Florian. Before she finishes her sentence, condemning the young Rochefort as a whore, Ray marches up to her and offers his hand.

"Count Courland, Madame. Since you seem compelled to use my name so freely, I thought you should at least know to whom it is attached." He leans closer in the guise of kissing her hand and adds quietly, but clearly: "Unless you would like me to share the details of your son's dealings with this 'loan sharking deviant', I suggest you reconsider what you were about to say - now and in the future."

The woman stammers and pulls her hand away. Those around her who have been listening avidly are watching with interest. Ray looks around and smiles in a way that causes those closest to back away.

"I'm sure all of you have better things to do than discuss me or my companions." No one replies, but a few nod. Ray shows just a glint of teeth and walks away.

"What was that about?" Florian asks urgently, putting out his hand to stop Ray's rapid pace. He's breathing a bit raggedly and his face is damp with perspiration.

"Nothing to worry about. Where's your date?" Ray isn't in the mood to be nice. He grips Florian's hand and drags him towards the nearest servant, snatching two flutes of champagne and shoving one at Florian. "Sit down, there, and drink this. You look like you're going to collapse." He turns back to the servant. "A pitcher of water and some plain biscuits."

While the servant goes to get the requested items, Ray takes a handkerchief and waves it at Florian. "You're dripping wet, at least wipe your face."

Florian obeys meekly, looking up at Ray with a weak smile. "You shouldn't let a group of old gossips bother you so much. People always talk."

"Then let them talk about someone else for a change." He looks around and frowns in irritation. "Where is Madame Harrison?"

"She and Agnes went to freshen up. It was getting quite warm on the dance floor and people kept interrupting us."

"I've never seen you dance before. You're not bad."

"My mother would thank you for that. She was a very demanding teacher." Florian grimaces in a way that makes Ray wonder just how long it had taken Florian to learn to move with such fluid grace.

"Did you see what you wanted?" Florian seems eager to change the subject. "I believe Miranda will be ready to leave soon."

"I've seen enough," Ray replies, turning towards the returning servant. He waits for the items to be placed on a small table nearby, then motions the man away and pours the water himself, handing it to Florian with the command to 'drink this - slowly'.

Florian drinks half, then accepts one of the plain cookies. He has a weakness for shortbread and Ray makes a point to indulge him. He has finished his second cookie when Miranda and Agnes return, looking much fresher than Florian.

"I seem to have overdone things," Miranda comments with a smile for Florian. "I hope you won't mind if I make it an early evening?"

"Not at all." Florian had risen to his feet as soon as he'd seen Miranda approaching. He takes her arm once again and leads her towards their host to thank them, so they can make a proper exit. Retrieving their coats from the servant by the door, they wait in the foyer until their car is brought around. It is cool now and the two women huddle together in the backseat as they ride back to their hotel.

Florian insists on escorting them inside, but Miranda refuses to let him accompany them to their rooms. She tells him he looks flushed and sends him off with instructions to drink tea and go right to bed. Florian nods politely and returns to the car where Ray is waiting impatiently.

"Next time we take the carriage," Ray states as they stand in the foyer of their home, shedding coats and handing them to Luc to be brushed and properly tended. He looks over at Florian who has a rather closed off expression on his face. "Go take a bath and get ready for bed. I'll tell Laila to bring tea up to your room."

Florian offers a small smile and goes off without a word. Ray watches him and frowns, debating whether to follow when Florian pauses and turns back to say, "Be careful tonight."

Ray nods and watches until Florian is out of sight.

XXXXX

"Should I ask?" Florian wonders when Ray joins him for breakfast.

"About what?" Ray's satisfied smile gives Florian the answer he is seeking. He leaves it at that. He really doesn't want to know what possession the Spanish Ambassador will find missing. He'll read about it in the evening paper.

"Never mind. I should get started on the bills." He rises to leave the table only to have Ray stop him with a touch. "You overdid it last night." He reaches up and presses the back of his hand to Florian's forehead. "You've got a fever. Go tell Monsieur Renault and the kid that you can't play with them today and go back to bed."

Florian opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again and nods. He leaves the room without further comment and Ray hears him walking down the hall towards the conservatory which serves as Noel's classroom.

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. He's in no mood to deal with Florian in one of his melancholies. Hopefully it is just overexertion and he'll be right by supper. Meanwhile, Ray has work to do - there is a lovely new set of jewels that needed appreciation.

XXXXX

Florian is curled up on his bed, face turned towards the wall. He feels ill, but not because of the fever. He'd had one of those dreams last night - the first in weeks. He thought he'd finally put everything that had happened in Morocco behind him, but it keeps coming back.

Tears slide down his face but he doesn't bother to wipe them away. Why make the effort when there will only be more to replace them? He never knows what triggers those dreams, but he suspects some of it was the gossip he'd overheard at the ball. Three men had been talking about him. He'd tried not to listen but they were close and didn't seem concerned about who might hear them. Florian missed some of it because of the music, but there had been a lull between pieces and he'd heard some quite clearly: his mother's pride had ruined the family and he'd gotten what he deserved.

Florian remembers hearing that phrase before, when he'd been bound and helpless on the floor in Isaac's house in Morocco, with no memory of who he was and fear of an unknown man driving him half mad. He'd had no defense against Isaac's pronouncement - no context for what he had done to deserve such pain and fear. Even now that he has full awareness of what Azura had done to him, he has no absolution. Had he gotten what he deserved?

He curls up tighter, hugging himself against the memories that are still too fresh. More than a year later he can remember the pain. The fear. The shame. He doesn't need a nightmare to bring it back, it's always there, too near the surface.

More tears fall and Florian chokes back a desperate cry. He aches so deep inside he'll never be free of it.

Someone knocks softly on his door and he bites his lip hard to keep from making a sound. He can't let anyone see him like this - so helpless - so pathetic.

Another soft knock and then a long pause before light steps take the person away - probably Noel wanting to check on him.

Florian turns his face into the mattress and sobs.

*****

Chapter 3

 

At suppertime Laila knocks at his door, calling his name. Florian doesn't answer. Laila already thinks he's a useless, pampered pet. He will not let her see him like this.

There are no lights on in his room and the sun has already set. Knowing he spent the day hiding doesn't make Florian feel any better. He wonders if he should just stay awake all night rather than risk another dream. He's still deciding when Ray walks in without knocking.

"What's the matter with you?" he demands, reaching out to check Florian's temperature and frowning when Florian flinches away. "Are you that sick?"

Florian shakes his head and stills himself so Ray can feel that the fever is gone.

"Did you have any dinner?" Florian shakes his head. "Planning to eat supper?" Florian shakes his head again, slower, and doesn't look at Ray.

"Wrong. Get up and put your robe on. The cook made soup for you and she's got some of that soft bread you like." Ray leans down to help Florian up and after a moment's resistance, Florian gives in. He stands unsteadily, clinging to Ray, his face pressed against Ray's chest. He feels Ray tighten his hold, sheltering Florian and making him feel safe. He lingers there, with Ray's faced tilted down, his chin almost resting on Florian's head.

There is an almost kiss brushed across his head before Ray pulls gently away. Silently he runs his fingers across Florian's face. "I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes," he says at last and pulls away completely. He pauses in the doorway without turning back, then closes the door behind him.  
XXXXX

The dining room is empty when Florian arrives. He frowns in confusion and takes his seat, starting in on the small basket of bread immediately. He's suddenly starving.

The bread and soup are gone and Florian is lingering over his tea when he finally reaches for the newspaper that lays abandoned at Ray's place. He stares at the headline, confused. Since when has Ray become an art thief?

"Get in here," Ray barks when Florian knocks tentatively on the door to the study. Florian nods to Laila and Luc as he takes the chair Ray indicates.

"You've seen it?" Ray demands, barely waiting for Florian to nod before continuing. "Fine. then maybe you can explain it to me. I obtain an antique diamond necklace worth millions from the visiting Spanish Ambassador and what appears on the front page of today's paper?" He waves the offending article for emphasis. "Some ridiculous story about a painting stolen on the same night, from the same Spanish Ambassador. The necklace isn't even mentioned."

Florian coughs to cover a laugh. The expression on Ray's face...

"I heard that," Ray snaps.

"Sorry," Florian replies, not exactly contrite. "Do they have any clues as to who took the painting?"

"Yes. Apparently the thief left a calling card -lavender scented no less - with the name 'Mirage' written on it. What kind of name is that for a thief?"

Florian shakes his head and stands up. "Does it really matter? You've got the necklace and all the attention will be focused elsewhere for a change. It might even keep Solomon Sugar busy."

Ray dismisses that with a wave of his hand. "Don't bet on it. I expect he'll try to pin this on me before the week is out. The idiot."

Florian calmly reaches over and claims his pile of paperwork, carrying it to his desk and preparing to work.

"Leave that," Ray commands. "Go play with Noel or something. You can take care of that tomorrow. I want some time to think."

Florian reluctantly abandons the half-sorted pile, nodding to Ray before following the others out of the room. Behind him, Ray is muttering to himself.  
XXXXX

Ray isn't at breakfast the next morning, nor does he appear in time for lunch. Florian completes his daily paperwork and spends his afternoon with Noel and Monsieur Renault discussing Ancient Egyptian art. They end early and Florian takes Noel to the nearby park to play.

They are late returning for supper and are greeted at the door by a rather annoyed Ray.

"Get lost again?" He snaps as he brushes a bit of leaf out of Florian's hair.

"We were at the park," Noel offers helpfully. "Florian knows how to get there. We fed the ducks."

Florian ignores Ray and kneels down to help Noel out of his coat and hat. "Go wash up before supper. Laila will help you with your bath and then I'll be up to read to you before bedtime."

Noel hugs Florian and runs off to do as instructed. Florian stands, watching him go, smiling softly. When Noel is out of sight he turns his attention back to Ray.

"You were gone all day. I didn't think you'd mind if Noel and I went to the park."

"It's fine," Ray mutters. "But hurry and clean up too; supper will be cold."

"You didn't have to wait," Florian counters, then adds, "but thank you."

"Just hurry up, will you. I missed my lunch."

Florian nods and goes off to wash while Ray stomps off to the dining room to wait. Two minutes later Florian is in his usual seat, offering Ray a smile. "Did you learn anything more about Mirage?"

"Nothing other than the fact that he - or she - has very good taste in art. There were dozens of valuables in that suite, paintings, statues and jewelry other than the diamond necklace and Mirage took only the three most valuable pieces." Florian looks confused so Ray elaborates. "He's knowledgeable about art - but the fact that he chose paintings rather than jewels -which are much easier to transport - might also indicate someone who's seeking recognition. Doing it for the notoriety not just the art. Especially since - well - it will be hard to sell such well-known paintings. Harder than jewels, anyway, because they can always be re-cut or put in new settings. But there are people out there who would pay a great deal of money to own certain paintings even if they could never display them."

Florian shakes his head, he just can't understand such a mindset. He understands the advantages of money, of course, but to steal for amusement, or to buy something that was stolen... he just doesn't get it.

"Don't worry about it," Ray finally says, pushing the bread basket towards him. Luc has been sent off on an errand and they are eating unattended. Florian prefers it, and Ray doesn't care much either way. It's nice to be able to talk without interruption.

"Thank you," Florian responds, selecting a slice of bread and reaching for the butter. "Did you see the letter from Madame Harrison?"

"Yes. Saves me from spending the money on tickets for some dreary romantic comedy."

Florian ducks his head and concentrates on his bread.

"Don't tell me you wanted to go to that play tomorrow night?" Ray thunks his fork down onto the plate and leans forward to look closely at his companion. "You did! I don't believe you."

Florian looks up, blushing. "I happen to like attending the theater. At least I used to; I haven't been in quite a while. It's a new play and Miranda reserved a box so we wouldn't have to listen to all the gossip." He looks away and adds. "It doesn't matter anyway. She'll be busy with the new security officer at the museum and won't be able to attend."

"Weren't the tickets in the letter? I believe she wants you to take someone else so they won't go to waste."

"The play's tomorrow night. Where would I find someone to ask this late? And who would want to be seen with me anyway; the Rochefort heir turned concubine." Florian pushes his half-finished meal away and sits rigidly straight in his chair.

"I thought you knew better than to listen to such nonsense. If those old ladies are so desperate for something to talk about, we could arrange something much more interesting than two-year-old rumors." Ray pushes Florian's plate into place. "Finish your meal and we'll go see what you've got in that wardrobe that would be suitable for an evening at the theatre. I won't have you make me look bad."

Florian blinks at him. "I thought you hated romantic comedies."

"Despise them. But annoying some old busybodies ought to provide enough amusement to save the evening." Ray grins and reaches for a cigar, lighting it with absentminded ease while he watches Florian finish his dinner. Those amethyst eyes shine with joy, glittering in the candlelight and Ray curses himself three times over for being such a pushover.

*****

Chapter 4

 

"Did you have a good time?" Florian asks anxiously as Ray drives them home from the theatre. It's late and the air is damp but they are both enjoying the ride.

"Not bad." Ray gives Florian a grin and pats his jacket pocket where a brooch and three bracelets are hidden.

Florian groans and shakes his head. "I meant: did you enjoy the play?"

"I didn't fall asleep, unlike the old guy in the next box."

"Count Faulle. He was always slipping off to the library to sleep whenever mother had one of her parties. I've heard his wife even talks in her sleep."

"Well she certainly didn't stop during the play." Ray shakes his head. "We won't be making this a habit."

"No," Florian laughs. "But tonight was nice. Thank you for going with me. I... didn't want to go by myself."

"You might ask Laila sometime. She might enjoy it. You can reserve a box in my name."

Florian smiles happily and presses a hand against Ray's arm. "I'll do that. Thank you, Ray."

Ray smiles back and wonders when he became a complete sap.

XXXXX

"Miranda," Florian bows low and kisses her hand. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, Florian. It's wonderful to see you."

"I'm sorry you weren't able to attend the play. It was amusing."

"Couldn't be helped. But never mind that, your Count is waiting."

"Is Mademoiselle Agnes joining us tonight?"

"She's a little under the weather so I'll have the honor of two escorts if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Florian assures her as he helps her up into the carriage. He climbs in after her and Ray signals the driver to move on.

"Have you ever met the General?" Miranda asks both men. They both shake their heads, no. "Well he's a bit difficult to understand as he has a tendency to mumble, but he tells wickedly funny stories." She leans closer to Ray who is seated across from her. "Especially if he doesn't realize there are ladies in the room."

Ray smiles at Florian's nervous laugh. For someone two years older, he can be adorably innocent. Ray takes pity on his charge, however, and changes the subject. "Are the new security measures in place at the museum?"

"Thankfully, yes. The staff and the police have been very kind. I just hope the thief isn't willing to risk an assault on a building that is so well guarded."

"Did the police have any information they haven't shared with the press?" Ray asks with casual interest, ignoring the look Florian gives him.

"Not, really, although there are strong suspicions that it is a youth rather than an adult. Apparently the window the thief used to gain entry is very small. They also think that the name card is intended to misdirect them into thinking it is a professional thief. In actuality, the police believe it was the work of an amateur - perhaps a young aristocrat in search of attention."

"I'd wondered as much," Ray says dismissively. He sits back and watches as Florian shifts beside Miranda and tells her about the play. That carries them the rest of the way to the hotel where the General is staying and into the ballroom where the party has already started.

"Madame Harrison," The general takes the lady's hand in his own, covering it with the other hand in lieu of kissing it. He's an older gentleman and a bit unsteady on his feet. "I greatly enjoyed your collection. It was more than kind of you to share it. I've got a few pieces myself, but nothing so impressive. My wife prefers her jewels you see." He gestures to the woman standing a few feet away. At her throat is a red jewel the size of a hen's egg.

"Breathtaking," Miranda replies. "It's red, but I've never seen a ruby like that."

"And you won't, my dear. It's a red emerald. 'Heart's Blood' it's called. Quite rare I understand, but Emmaline fell in love with it on first sight."

"Understandable, General. Your wife has exquisite taste."

"Thank you, young lady." The General leans forward and places a light kiss on Miranda's cheek. "Now go back to your lad. Young Rochefort is a good sort - fine family. A pity what happened to his mother. Don't you listen to what any of those old wags say about him or his Count. I know men of good character, I do, and you're safe with them."

"Thank you, General. And a happy birthday to you." Miranda takes her leave of the General and returns to Florian and Ray who have already been through the line.

"He likes you," Ray teases, handing Miranda a flute of champagne. "I thought he was going to steal you away from us."

"Nonsense," Miranda responds primly. "He was just telling me that you were both men of fine moral character. Although his eyesight may be going."

Florian laughs and tries to cover it by taking a drink of champagne. Ray glares at him.

"Don't kill him until we've danced, Count Courland. The wolves are starting to circle."

Ray notes a few gentlemen directing more than passing attention at Miranda. He grins and offers her his arm. "Then allow me the honor before Florian claims you for the evening."

"Why Count, you do continue to surprise." Miranda hands her glass to Florian and allows Ray to escort her out to the dance floor.

XXXXX

Florian is almost disappointed when Ray leads Miranda off the dance floor. He greets the couple by handing them glasses of champagne secured from a nearby servant. "I was afraid I'd lost my dance partner," he teases Ray, looking directly into the younger man's eyes. Ray meets the gaze steadily his eyes telling Florian who he'd really like to dance with.

"A pity Agnes couldn't join us." Miranda's words break the men's silent connection. Florian turns to her with a charming smile.

"It is a pity. Please give her our best wishes for a rapid recovery. I'm looking forward to seeing her again at the museum on Friday."

"Thank you, I'll tell her." Miranda gives Ray a cat-like smile. "She was most disappointed that she wouldn't have your company this evening, Count. She was quite taken with your charming manner."

Florian half-chokes on his champagne and Ray thumps him on the back - perhaps a little harder than necessary.

"I'm all right," he finally manages to sputter, giving Ray a narrow-eyed glare before extending his hand to Miranda. "My apologies. Please, would you join me for this dance?" He shoves his half-empty glass at Ray and leads Miranda away. She laughs and waves to Ray as they depart.

"He's got an appointment in the cellar," Ray mutters to himself as he watches Florian go. The threat has no sting. While Ray has no problem using his whip on others, he hasn't used it on Florian since they returned from Morocco. After everything Azura did to the gentle blond, Ray can't imagine whipping him. Not that it saves Florian from punishment entirely, but the threat of a few hours chained in the cellar is usually effective enough to keep his impulsive Amethyst in line.

Ray claims another glass of champagne and settles into a comfortable chair with a good view of the dance floor. People pass around him, laughing and talking, occasionally giving him a nod of greeting as they go. There's no one gossiping about him within earshot for which he is grateful. Overall it's peaceful if a bit boring and Ray lets his mind wander.

"Am I disturbing you, Count?" Lady Emmaline is standing next to him, midnight blue satin gown filling half his vision.

"Not at all," he insists, rising smoothly and motioning for her to take the empty seat beside his. "I'm just enjoying the music."

"And the dancing?" she replies placidly, accepting a drink from a passing servant. "It's a pleasure to see you and Florian here this evening. I wasn't sure you'd attend. We rarely see either of you."

"I travel a great deal. Florian often accompanies me."

"Of course. He must be a great asset to you. He's a fine young man. My husband was very fond of his father. We were quite distressed when we returned to Paris and learned of his mother's death and that unfortunate scandal with his uncle." She leans a bit closer and lowers her voice, aware of ears around them. "I understand you were instrumental in clearing up that bit of unpleasantness. Imagine, that dreadful man killing his own sister and burning her mansion then framing his nephew for the deed. Horrible thing, gambling. It's ruined better men than him, unfortunately. But to leave poor Florian penniless and without a home." She shakes her head, as if unable to imagine such a situation. "No matter, it's clear he's being well looked after thanks to you, Count Courland. If it means anything, you have the gratitude of my husband and myself."

Ray nods, uncomfortable with this line of conversation. His gaze finds the Heart's Blood brooch and he has to force himself to look away. Emmaline laughs lightly and touches the jewel.

"You needn't be so modest, sir. Heart's Blood catches everyone's eye." She looks down at the large jewel, set in gold and pinned above her left breast. For a woman nearing sixty, she is still slender with masses of silver hair piled high on her head and a youthful complexion that she painted lightly with powder and rouge.

"It's a monstrous thing, isn't it? And what a name - Heart's Blood. Makes me shiver to think of it, but my husband was determined I should have it. He tells everyone I wanted the thing but I much prefer my diamonds." She stands and leans down slightly, adding in an undertone, "Although I understand some people favor Amethysts."

Ray stands, kissing her hand before she pats his cheek and glides off to join a nearby group of guests. He shakes his head a bit as if to clear it and turns his eyes back to his favorite jewel, who is still dancing Miranda around the floor. He's harder to pick out now with so many couples dancing, but Ray finds him and notes that he looks relaxed and happier than he's been in a while. Perhaps he should make an effort to get Florian out more often. But only if the idiot doesn't get carried away and make himself sick again.

Ray digs out a cigarette and settles back into the chair to wait and watch, ready to claim his Amethyst as soon as he shows signs of overexertion.  
XXXX

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Florian insists as Ray shoves his coat at him.

"You won't be if you catch a chill. You nearly danced Miranda's feet off."

"Did we keep you waiting too long?" Florian's voice pitches lower and he studies Ray with concern. He's glad that Miranda is a short distance away taking her leave of the general. "It was thoughtless of me. I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm capable of entertaining myself." Ray grits his teeth as Florian fixes his coat collar. "And dressing myself."

"Then hold still, your collar is turned under." Florian fixes the garment, smoothing it into place. "I did see you speaking to Captain L'Argent. He seemed quite happy."

"Quite drunk, you mean. The man can't hold his liquor at all, fortunately for me."

"He's a customer then?" Florian frowns a little and casts a glance towards Miranda to make sure she's still out of hearing range.

"He is, although his balance is nowhere near as impressive as yours." Ray grins and motions towards Miranda who is working her way past a cluster of departing guests. He loves getting in the last word with Florian, although it doesn't happen as often as he'd like.

Florian gives him a look, then schools his expression before Miranda joins them. He is holding her wrap and helps her into it, being extra solicitous. He takes the lead as they depart, forcing Ray to trail after them to the waiting carriage.

Florian chats with Miranda the whole way to the hotel and insists on escorting her inside to the lobby. He takes his time returning to the carriage, claiming the seat opposite Ray when he does.

Ray clenches his teeth around his cigar and blows smoke in Florian's direction. They don't speak until they are in the house, coats off and headed to the kitchen for tea.

"You're lucky I'm tired or you'd be spending your night in the cellar," Ray comments as he settles in at the table while Florian prepares the tea.

"You were bored," Florian exclaims as if he's uncovered a secret. "Next time you should invite Laila."

"Definitely not," Ray replies emphatically. "She hasn't been... odd lately and I don't want to start that again. You and she are getting along, aren't you?"

"Most of the time," Florian replies neutrally.

"Then let's leave it that way. I depend on her, I don't need female ideas causing problems."

Florian shakes his head at this old conversation and sets a steaming cup of tea in front of Ray along with a small plate of shortbread cookies. He gets his own cup and takes a seat across from Ray. They drink in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Florian looks up and asks the question that's been on his mind most of the evening.

"You're going after Heart's Blood, aren't you?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"Not really," Florian admits. "It's just... the General and his wife have always been friends with my family." A tear glitters at the corner of Florian's eye and he blinks it away.

"Would you feel better if you knew that Lady Emmaline dislikes the jewel? She called it a 'monstrous thing'."

Florian brightens a little, but shakes his head, standing and gathering the dishes with quick movements. "Do what you will, Ray. I have no say in the matter, nor should I. Sometimes I forget that I'm only here due to your generosity. I can't repay my debt to you in five lifetimes, let alone one."

"Don't do that," Ray demands closing in on Florian and stilling his movements with a gentle touch. "You earn your keep in this house like everyone else. If the time ever comes when the situation changes, we'll discuss it." He leans closer, his body seeking contact with the blond's. Florian resists for a second, then gives in, letting his head rest against Ray's chest. He looks up just as Ray leans down and their lips meet.

Ray's arms wrap around Florian, pulling the slender form closer, one hand tangling in the platinum blond hair. Florian responds by wrapping his arms around Ray and tilting his head slightly for a more insistent kiss. They pull apart at last, breathing hard, eyes locked.

They're moving in for another kiss when the third stair gives its distinctive squeak. They pull away from each other, faces flushed, and pretend to be busy cleaning their dishes.

"Noir?" Laila blinks in surprise at the pair working together at the sink. She frowns as if sensing something more than she's seeing. "What are you doing?"

"Just cleaning up," Florian replies with forced cheer. "We didn't want to leave a mess for the morning."

Laila shakes her head wondering why leaving a mess never bothered them before. She yawns widely and takes a glass from the cupboard. "I woke up thirsty. I didn't know you were still up."

"I'm headed to bed now," Florian assures her, moving aside so she can fill her glass with water from the tap. "Goodnight Laila, Ray." He hurries out of the room, leaving a sleepy Laila staring at Ray.

"You're not going up too?

"No, I've got work to do." He grins when he says it, finally able to show how excited he is about the prospect of acquiring Heart's Blood. He'd heard about it through his usual channels, but seeing it so close...

Beside him, Laila laughs and grins back, catching his enthusiasm. Her reaction is so different from Florian's. He knows that he'll never really be able to share this with his Amethyst, and some small part of him regrets it. But for now he pushes those thoughts aside and starts making plans.

Laila sets the empty glass down on the drainboard and rubs her hands together. "What can I do?"

Ray smiles and leads her towards the study.  
XXXXX

The General and his wife have a suite of rooms on the second floor. Gaining access is child's play and Ray wastes no time locating the locked box where the jewelry is kept while they are traveling. As he suspected, they hadn't taken the time to have it secured in the hotel safe after the party, most likely intending to wait until morning. Instead, they'd hidden it in a trunk.

Ray works swiftly, a few deft movements and the lock springs open. He opens the box, already anticipating the weight and beauty of Heart's Blood. Instead he finds a lavender-scented card inscribed, "Mirage."

Angry and annoyed, he leaves the card and closes the box. He returns it to its hiding place and exits the hotel the same way he entered - by a small window.

He descends a convenient tree and turns only to stop cold at the sight of a shadowy figure leaning against the building near the corner, watching him. He takes a step closer, warily, regarding the slight figure concealed under cloak and mask.

"Mirage?" he demands, not expecting an answer.

A flash of movement and something small and white is tossed in his direction. It falls well short and when he reaches down to retrieve it, the figure dashes away. Whip in hand, he's ready to give chase only to find the figure gone, concealed in one of the many doorways or narrow spaces between buildings. Sounds in the mid-distance tell him someone is approaching, possibly a policeman on patrol.

Noir clenches his fist and feels the item crumple in his hand. It feels like paper, but there's weight to it and something heavy concealed within. Making a quick decision, he abandons his search for Mirage and hurries down an alleyway towards home.

*****

 

Chapter 5

 

The house is in an uproar. The noise wakes Florian before sunrise and he dresses quickly, suppressing a yawn as he hurries downstairs. He finds Laila and Luc hurrying from the study to the dining room with armloads of books.

"What's going on?" Florian asks, but Laila only motions towards the study and keeps going.

"Ray?" Florian peers into the study only to find Ray half buried behind teetering stacks of books and papers. "What happened?"

"This is what happened." Ray shoves a stack of books aside, not bothering to catch them when the pile topples over onto the floor. In the center of the desk is a very crumpled piece of stationary with Heart's Blood in the middle.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I!" Ray snaps. "I went to get this last night only to find it missing and Mirage's calling card in its place. He was waiting for me, outside the hotel, as if he knew I'd be there. He tossed this at me and took off. I was almost caught by a police patrol so I had to let him go. Damn it!" He thumps his fist down on the desk, dislodging another small stack of books.

"What does the note say?" Florian asks as he bends over to pick up the books. He looks around uncertainly before setting them on the nearest chair – one of the few surfaces not already overflowing with books and papers. He casts a look at Ray before picking up more of the scattered volumes.

"Nothing," Ray finally growls. "There's nothing on it."

"Oh," Florian says quietly, at a loss for how to help. He looks down at the books in his hands, reading the title on the topmost volume. "British aristocracy? What has that got to do with Mirage?"

"Just a suspicion." Ray waves the question aside lightly but Florian doesn't believe the act. Ray always has a reason for his suspicions, even if they don't make sense to anyone else.

"Is there something I can do to help?"

"No, I've got Laila and Luc working on it." He rubs the back of his head and grins sheepishly. "I think we should eat in the kitchen this morning. I had them take over the dining room – more space to spread out."

"Then I'll make breakfast. It's the cook's morning off." Florian gathers the last of the fallen books and sets them neatly on the chair. He gives Ray a smile and heads off to prepare a simple meal. He isn't the world's best cook, but at least he hasn't poisoned anyone yet.

XXXXX

"So that's what Mirage was after." Ray tosses the newspaper down on the kitchen table and scowls at it. The headline reads: "Masterpieces Stolen" and the article states that 2 paintings were taken from the hotel suite of a visiting dignitary. There are few facts, but that is to be expected when the robbery took place so late the previous evening.

Florian reaches over and picks up the paper, quickly scanning the article. "It doesn't identify the owner of the paintings, nor does it mention anything about Heart's Blood. Could it be possible that there were two different robberies last night?"

"Possible, yes. Likely, no. And the paintings stolen were small canvases, carefully removed from their frames, just like the others. Mirage must have gotten there very early and hidden them somewhere before coming back to wait for me." Ray lights another cigar and clenches it with his teeth. He's in one of the worst moods Florian's ever seen him in.

"I'll clean up and take care of the day's paperwork." He gathers the dishes quietly, not wanting to irritate Ray any more. "Did you sleep at all…?"

"No, and it's not likely I'll have a moment's peace today either." He glowers at the paper again and puffs his way through the rest of the cigar.

"If I can do anything." Florian puts a tentative hand on Ray's before taking up the last of the dishes and carrying them to the sink. He tries to be as quiet as possible, but from the corner of his eye he sees Ray rubbing his head as if he has a headache.

Florian fills the tea kettle and offers a cup of mint tea without comment. He finishes the rest of the dishes quickly and leaves Ray sitting, staring into the distance and sipping the tea.

XXXXX

"This is not a good day," Florian tells the detective who stands on the doorstep looking far too cheerful. Solomon Sugar just smiles and tries to take a step into the house. Florian blocks him with his body and a fierce look that he learned from Ray.

"Certainly you don't intend to turn me away. Not after everything I've done for you and your Count." Solomon's smile gets bigger and he pushes past Florian into the foyer. Ray stands in the doorway to the parlor and looks both furious and nauseous.

"Not today, Sugar!" he exclaims and turns away, headed for his study. Florian makes one more attempt to stop the larger man, but he's easily brushed aside.

"Now, Ray," Sugar chides with good humor. "If you run away like this I'll just have to chase you."

Florian closes the door and shakes his head. He's tempted to go to the opposite end of the house, or maybe even the opposite side of Paris, but finally decides he'd better go save the detective from Ray who is in a very bad mood.

He finds them in Ray's study, Ray at his desk and the detective roaming among the piles of books. He stops here and there, reading titles as he wanders. Ray smokes his cigar and watches Solomon with a death glare.

"Interesting what you've done with the place," Solomon comments as he finally settles at Florian's desk, leaving the young aristocrat standing awkwardly near the door.

"Not going to the Countess' masque," Solomon comments as he shuffles through the stack of mail Florian had been planning to finish. "Or the Opera." He sets the materials down in the wrong place and smiles up at Florian who has come to restore order to the desk.

"Do they pay you to harass me in particular or are your employers just glad to get you out of the building?"

"Neither, actually. I'm following a reliable lead. But the puzzle is: what would my dear Black Cat want with paintings when there are still so many jewels to be had?"

"And this has what to do with me, exactly?" Ray idly picks up the nearest book and opens it to the marker. He leans back in his chair and starts to read, or at least pretends to. Florian can tell that he's taking more notice of Solomon than he wants the detective to be aware of.

Solomon attempts to play the same game, picking up a lavishly printed invitation and opening it but Florian snatches it out of his hand, slamming it down on the desk before getting behind the detective's chair and pushing it away from the desk.

"You're stronger than you look," Solomon comments, giving Florian an appraising look that gets Ray's immediate attention.

"That's enough!" He leaves the chair and stalks over to Solomon, taking him by the arm. "Allow me to escort you out."

"But I haven't asked you about the paintings yet," Solomon protests with a grin. Irritating Ray is his absolute favorite pastime.

"Why don't you go ask the thief," Ray counters. "I have work to do, and so does Florian."

"You look tired," Solomon comments. "Late night?"

"You make me tired, now go." Ray opens the door and fights the desire to shove the man out. Instead he waits stiffly as Solomon leans close one last time and whispers, "Stick to pretty gems. They are much more fitting for my lovely Black Cat."

"Out," Ray barks, slamming the door with Solomon barely across the threshold. He locks it for good measure and turns to see Florian watching. "Get those papers done. I've got an appointment at eleven."

Florian hurries off while Ray goes to bark instructions at Laila in preparation for his new client.

XXXXX

Florian climbs down from the car and turns to help Noel. The boy's hands are full of his bear and the get well gift they'd just purchased.

"Thank you for the ride, Monsieur Renault. We'll meet you at the museum in thirty minutes." Florian places a hand lightly on Noel's shoulder since the boy's hands are full. They wave to their tutor as the man drives away, then turn and proceed into the hotel to pay a visit to the still-ailing Agnes Dobbs.

Florian had spoken to Miranda earlier in the day, making arrangements for their final "date" at the exhibition closing to be held the following evening. She'd mentioned that Agnes was recovering slowly but still not feeling well enough to venture out.

Nodding to the concierge, Florian and Noel proceed to the second floor and down the hall to the last door on the left. Florian takes the gift from Noel and lifts the boy up so he can knock.

There is a long delay and Florian worries that Agnes might be sleeping. He is setting Noel down, preparing to leave when there is rustling beyond the door and it opens.

Florian is a bit taken aback by the woman who answers the door. With her hair back in a braid and dressed in a simple dress, Agnes looks younger and less severe than the other times he's seen her. She frowns a little at Florian, then smiles when she catches sight of Noel.

"We're sorry to intrude," Florian speaks softly. "Miranda thought it would be alright for us to pay a brief visit. But if we're disturbing you…"

"Not at all. Please, come in." Agnes steps back and motions the two visitors into the parlor of the suite. A few dresses are scattered about and she gathers them, flushing a little in embarrassment. "I was just tending Miranda's gowns."

"Please don't let us disturb you, then. We can't stay long. We're meeting our tutor at the art museum shortly. He was kind enough to give us a ride."

"No, please, I'm thankful for the company. Won't you have a seat?" Her voice is a little raspy and she is paler than Florian remembers, but then he hasn't seen her without makeup before.

"First, allow me to introduce you to my young friend, Noel Tassel. Noel is staying with me for a time." Noel bows just as Florian has taught him and Agnes smiles brightly at the charming child.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Noel. What a lovely bear."

"Noel holds up his faithful stuffed companion for her inspection. "This is Betty Deux. My papa gave him to me."

"Very nice to meet you both then. Would you like an apple?" Agnes motions her visitors towards a settee and brings over a small bowl of fruit from a side table. Noel takes one with a big smile.

"Thank you."

Agnes offers the bowl to Florian who politely declines. Instead, he touches Noel's arm and hands him the bag.

"Oh. We brought you a present." Noel hops down off the settee and carries the bag over to Agnes, who's taken a seat opposite them.

"That was very kind of you. Thank you." She opens the bag and finds a box of chocolates and a thin hardcover novel.

"Florian picked out the book but I picked out the chocolate," Noel tells her, going back to his seat beside Florian and biting into his apple.

"Thank you both. You are very kind to bring such lovely things to someone you barely know."

"Florian said that you are really good friends with the nice lady who has all the paintings, so you must be really nice too." Noel bites into the apple again, swinging his legs as he looks around.

"I enjoyed your company at the ball," Florian reassures the slightly flustered woman. "I hope you will be able to join us tomorrow night. I was hoping for a dance."

"Miranda is a much better dancer, Marquis. I could hardly be a suitable partner."

"I shouldn't worry about that. It would be an honor to share a dance with you." Florian gives her one of his most charming smiles. "Please consider it if you are well enough."

"I… I will. Thank you." Agnes looks around uncomfortably and Florian takes that as his cue.

"I hope you will enjoy the book. The gentleman in the bookstore said it was very popular with ladies." Florian stands up and takes the apple core from Noel, placing it in the wastebasket near the writing desk. Noel imitates Florian's slight bow to Agnes.

"I hope you will forgive us for intruding. We'll leave you to your recuperation and hope to see you tomorrow night."

"Thank you for stopping by." She leans down slightly to address Noel. "It was very kind of you to visit, Master Tassel."

"Thank you for the apple," Noel replies, reaching up to take Florian's hand. "I hope you feel better so you can eat lots of chocolate."

"I'm sure I will," Agnes assures him as she shows them out.

Florian checks his pocket watch as they descend to the lobby and leave the hotel. "We're a little early. Would you like to take the long way to the museum and see the ducks?"

"Yes!" Noel cheers and increases his pace, pulling Florian along with one hand and the teddy bear with the other.

*****

 

Chapter 6

 

"I was wondering," Florian says quietly, his eyes focused just past Ray's right ear. "What would a painting look like… if it was out of its frame?" He shrugs his shoulders as he quickly adds, "I'm just curious."

Ray studies Florian before answering. The blond's discomfort is a clear indicator that he knows something that worries him. Ray smiles kindly and sets the papers he was reading down onto the desk. He stands and moves around the desk at an unhurried pace, not wanting to unsettle his nervous Amethyst. "I'll show you," he offers, trailing a hand down Florian's face from temple to chin. "Help me?"

Florian nods and follows as Ray moves to the far side of the study where, on the wall above Florian's desk hangs a small still life. The oil painting glows with color and Ray handles it with care as he lifts it free. He places it face down, the frame edges resting on the desk blotter. Using the metal letter opener, he gently pries up one of the tiny fasteners keeping the covering over the back. When a half-dozen of the fasteners are removed and placed aside, he lifts the corner of the cover and shows Florian how the paint canvas is secured to its wooden frame. The heavy canvas is pulled taut, the off-white edges unfinished.

Florian nods. "Thank you," and hands the fasteners one at a time to Ray so he can restore the back cover before re-hanging the painting. Florian frowns as he stares at the small piece. Ray puts a comforting hand on his shoulder before returning to his work. He knows Florian well enough to recognize when the man needs time to think.

Long minutes pass and Florian relaxes, turning away from the painting. He stops beside Ray and leans down, brushing his lips against Ray's ear with a murmur of thanks before he leaves the study. Ray shakes his head and makes a valiant effort to focus on his work.

After re-reading the same sentence seven times and still not seeing a word, he finally tosses the paper down and pushes away from his desk. Marching over to the small side table, he reclaims the thick blue volume he'd been looking at earlier. He'd had Laila re-shelve everything else, convinced the answers he needed were here.

He suspects Florian is moving to the same conclusion about the mysterious Mirage. He also suspects that Florian will fight against the knowledge as long as he can. The blond's compassion often made him see good in people when anyone else would have accepted the truth. Even after everything that had happened with Azura, his Amethyst was still so trusting.

Ray collapses into an armchair and rests his head against the high back. It's exhausting some days, trying to safeguard that fragile innocence. He should have listened to his instincts and turned Miranda away at the start of this whole disaster. How is he going to tell Florian that the woman who holds his parent's portrait is a thief?

XXXXX

"And she gave me an apple!" Noel reports happily. "Florian and I saw lots of ducks so we were late getting to the museum but Monsieur Renault didn't get mad at us and we even got to have ice cream before we came home." The boy is practically bouncing in his seat and Florian finally places a hand over his, drawing his attention away from his supper.

"We're at the table," he reminds the boy gently.

"Sorry!" Noel settles immediately and lowers his head, peeking up at Ray to see if he's mad. Ray just pushes the basket of rolls closer to the boy and keeps eating. Florian likes to have Noel join them for supper occasionally, insisting that it will help the boy learn proper manners. Ray thinks it's more about giving Florian a chance to fuss over the pampered child but he rarely objects. Sometimes it is a diversion and occasionally the boy lets interesting little tidbits slip.

"Did you lose your way between the hotel and museum?" he asks the child. "The park isn't on the usual route between them."

"Florian said it was the long way. We didn't get lost or anything, we just had a lot of ducks to see so it took a long time." Noel selects a roll from the basket and tears it in half carefully, trying not to scatter crumbs from the hard crust. Florian moves the butter closer and watches as the boy slathers butter across the soft surface.

"A bit less butter next time," he chides gently as he pulls the butter away and replaces it with a serving dish of carrots. Noel makes a face. "Two spoonfuls to make your eyes bright," Florian says matter-of-factly as he dishes the vegetable onto Noel's plate, then puts a larger portion on his own.

"It was rude of us to make Monsieur Renault wait," Florian says contritely with a look at Ray, then at Noel. "We will not let it happen again."

Ray nods, dismissing the matter and frowns when Florian moves the carrots closer. If the kid wasn't there he'd get away with not eating the damned things. Trying not to frown, he puts a small portion on his plate. He thinks he's going to get away with it until Florian clears his throat and gives him a pointed look. Damnit. Ray adds another spoonful of carrots to his plate.

"Tell Ray about the art we saw," Florian suggests and Noel is off, chattering happily while the two men exchange smiles and finish their meal.

Placing his silverware across his empty plate, Florian uses his napkin, then places it over the plate. "Finished?" he asks the boy who is beginning to fidget. Noel nods emphatically. "Hold still," Florian demands as he inspects Noel's face and hands. "Very good," he tells the boy, "put your napkin down properly and go tell Laila I said you could have dessert in the kitchen." He stops the boy as he hops down from the chair. "Please tell her that Ray and I will have coffee and dessert in the study later." He brushes one of the boy's unruly hairs into place. "And I'll be up after your bath to finish that story."

"Okay!" Noel says happily as he hurries away. Florian waits until he is gone to turn his attention to Ray. "Shall we?" he asks, standing and waiting for Ray to respond. Ray nods and rises, dropping his napkin onto his plate.

"You planning to read me a story too?"

Florian gives him a searching look. "Only if you're very, very good."

Ray grins and follows his Amethyst out of the room.

XXXXX

"Did you finish the story?" Ray asks when Florian returns from tucking Noel in.

"Almost," Florian laughs. "He fell asleep half-way through the last chapter."

"You must have worn the poor kid out looking at all those ducks." Ray grins when he catches Florian trying to cover a yawn. "Looks like you tired yourself out too."

"It's been a busy week," Florian answers, distractedly. He's frowning at the book in Ray's hands.

"Just a little research," Ray explains, placing a marker to keep his place and setting the thick volume aside.

"Mirage?" Florian asks, although from his tone it's clear that he already knows the answer.

"Possibly. I don't have enough information yet."

"You think it's Miranda, don't you?"

"Yes," Ray answers honestly. He'll be as gentle as he can for Florian, but he won't hide the truth. "I think she's involved, but she's not necessarily the thief."

"Agnes, then." Florian leans back in his chair with a sigh. "But how? And why?" His eyes are begging for Ray to make sense of this for him.

"If I'm reading this correctly…" Ray taps the 'British Aristocracy' book. "Agnes found herself in a situation like yours – with the family fortune gone and her family all dead. Miranda appears to be a cousin whose family had managed to retain their fortune. Somehow they ended up in America where Miranda must have met her husband. As for why they would steal art, I don't know."

"But she didn't steal the paintings in the exhibit. She wouldn't be able to display them so publicly if they were stolen." Florian stands and starts pacing, frustrated by his inability to understand why the women he considers friends would steal.

"No, she has more than enough money to have purchased all of that art. There must be something significant about the paintings she steals." Ray pauses for a moment, thinking. "It can't be the artist – she usually takes small works by minor artists."

"Are they all British?" Florian asks.

"No, I wondered about that too." Ray smiles as he watches Florian move. The man seems more astute compared to when they first met. Clearly Florian had been overwhelmed by his overprotective mother. Despite the bad things that had happened soon after they met, Ray likes to think that he is helping Florian grow towards his potential. Not that it's entirely altruistic; the more Florian challenges Ray, the more interesting he becomes.

"What?" Florian demands with a frown. Ray's wearing that creepy smile again, the one that makes Florian nervous.

"Just admiring Mirage's skill." Ray answers with a partial truth; he does admire her skill. He stands and catches Florian as he starts pacing again. "It's only speculation," he offers as a consolation. "We could be completely wrong."

Florian studies him intently for a moment, then nods, recognizing and accepting what is being offered. "You're right. And after tomorrow night it won't matter one way or another. Miranda's taking the exhibit to Germany."

"Then we'll escort the ladies to the closing as planned." Ray leans close and touches Florian's face gently. "I suppose we should go to bed so we'll be well-rested for tomorrow night."

Florian nods, his hand resting against Ray's arm. They lean towards each other for a long moment, then Florian reluctantly pulls away. "Good night, Ray," he says quietly, offering a soft smile before he turns to go.

Ray watches until Florian is out of sight. Only then does he move, slowly walking around the room, extinguishing the lights.

*****

 

Chapter 7

 

"Let me," Florian offers, pushing Ray's hands aside and efficiently adjusting his collar. Florian runs his hands over the shoulders of Ray's tuxedo jacket, smoothing it needlessly. "There." He steps back and surveys his companion critically before giving him a nod. "Very nice."

Ray quirks a smile at him and waits for the inevitable blush. Florian doesn't disappoint. "I could say the same about you," Ray teases, knowing it will prolong the blush.

"Let's go," Florian stammers, turning to Luc to claim his coat. Thankfully Luc is used to this kind of banter and knows how to ignore it, or at least not react to it.

"We won't be too late but you don't have to wait up," Ray assures Laila who is standing nearby with Noel. He waves to the kid and waits while Florian gives the boy a hug before ushering the blond out to the carriage. Jameson is waiting for them, the horses stamping impatiently.

Florian sits across from Ray and they chat until they reach the hotel where Miranda and Agnes are waiting for them in the lobby. Florian is gracious to both of them, taking particular care to compliment Agnes on her recovered health.

They settle in the carriage and Miranda spends the short ride to the museum telling them about her plans for sightseeing at their next stop. Florian's never been to Munich and he tells her what he'd like to see if he ever gets there. He doesn't notice the looks that she and Ray exchange, nor the way Ray seems to be taking mental notes.

Florian climbs down from the carriage first, followed by Ray and they escort the ladies inside quickly to get them out of the evening chill. Agnes is still a bit pale but she assures Florian that she's fine and waves him off with Miranda to find the curator.

"Did you see what you wanted while you were in Paris?" Ray asks, more out of courtesy than because he wants an answer.

"There's never enough time to see everything," she responds, accepting the glass of punch he offers. "Every city has hidden treasures that visitors rarely see."

"Very true," Ray concedes, leading her towards the room where Florian's painting hangs. It's a large work and Ray wonders where he'll put it. He turns slightly, observing Agnes as she studies the portrait.

"Miranda has a good heart. She'd give away everything in this room if it would make someone happy - someone who knows what it's like to lose everything." She turns to Ray, glancing around to be sure that no one else is close enough to overhear. "She never does anything without a good reason."

"Many people say that," Ray replies neutrally. "But one person's good reason is another's bad reason. It's all a matter of interpretation."

"You could think of it that way," Agnes agrees easily. "But that doesn't make one person more right than the other."

"Not even if one person uses the law as a guideline."

"Even guidelines are subject to interpretation, Lord Courland. Surely you agree with that."

"Perhaps," Ray refuses to give up that easily. He signals a passing waiter and exchanges his and Agnes' empty glasses for full ones. "Shall we rescue our companions from the curator?"

"Not just yet," Agnes replies calmly, moving towards another room where a series of landscapes are arranged along a short wall opposite a line of portraits. She leads Ray to a small piece showing a cottage near a stream. "This is the first painting Miranda purchased. It was a gift for me."

Ray studies the piece with renewed interest, making a note of the artist. He wonders how this one might tie in with the missing art.

"This used to hang in my mother's morning room, just over her desk. Miranda paid an outrageous amount for it, just to salve my family's pride. Not that it did much good." Agnes turns away from the painting to study Ray closely. "I'm sure you understand."

Ray's not sure if she's referring to Florian's present state or his own past, but he nods anyway. Either way, he does understand. He's almost tempted to make a promise to her, but he needs more information, if only for his own sake.

"Perhaps you'd like a few minutes – to study the art. I'll find Miranda and you can join us shortly?" Agnes' smile lets him know that her meaning is different from her words. He considers, then nods and smiles in return. He appreciates a challenge.

He waits for her to leave the room before walking off in the opposite direction at a leisurely pace. He catches a glimpse of Miranda and Florian standing with the curator, laughing, and is glad to know that Florian will be too distracted to look for him, at least for the short time Ray needs.

Striding out into the central gallery, Ray increases his pace, not caring that the few late arrivals are watching his rapid departure. He'll have a cover for his return, of course, but time is of the essence and he can't lose the precious minutes necessary to make a more discrete exit.

Jameson is waiting with the carriage and comes forward at his signal. The hotel is close and the streets aren't crowded. They cover the distance in minutes and stop on a side street where Ray presses money into Jameson's hand and orders him to find two bouquets and be back in ten minutes.

Entry into the hotel is easy, with no one the wiser for his arrival. Luck is with him and he reaches Miranda's suite without passing other guests or servants. The lock gives way in seconds and he slips into the room and closes the door silently.

The room is in disarray, cluttered with half-packed trunks and cases. A few gowns are draped over furniture and an assortment of books and personal items litter the desk and coffee table.

Ray quickly examines the trunks, finding a few places that might conceal the stolen paintings, but they are disappointingly empty. The cases prove as unhelpful. He's wondering if he'll have to leave without confirming his suspicions when he accidentally brushes against one of the gowns draped across the sofa. Ray catches it before it falls and he frowns at the unexpected weight.

He notes how stiff and almost inflexible the skirt is and takes a look at the underskirt and hem, finding nothing unusual. With a frown he looks closer and finds a line of hand-sewn stitches along the hem. He feels the material, tracing the stitches and discovers a rectangle that covers most of the front of the underskirt. A check of a second dress, and then several already in the case reveal similar stitches and stiffness.

With a smile he carefully replaces each of the gowns and surveys the room one last time. Listening carefully at the door he slips out of the room and trips the lock, testing to make sure it is secure.

He's out of the hotel and back in the carriage just as Jameson returns with the requested bouquets. He returns to the museum and sweeps up the steps with a genuine smile for the ladies and his Amethyst.

"Madame Harrison," he presents the bouquet with a flourish and a half bow, waiting for her to accept the lavish arrangement before looking around for Agnes and Florian.

"You spoil me, Count. I'm afraid I'll miss this after tonight. Germany will hardly compare to Paris and your company."

"Germany has surprises as well, m'lady. I'm sure you remember from your previous visit."

"I do," she concedes with a smile, draping the bouquet across her arm to support it. "It's more peaceful there, unlike Paris, which never seems to sleep."

"Paris has its peaceful places, like this museum." Ray looks around again and frowns when neither Agnes nor Florian are nearby. "Have we lost our companions? I was hoping Agnes would accept a small token as well."

"Unfortunately you've missed her. She was quite tired and Florian agreed to escort her back to the hotel. He thought he might stay with her for a while then return home. He was concerned that you might have been bored and already left.

Ray frowns, unhappy with this turn of events and reluctant to believe that Florian would think him crude enough to leave without a proper goodbye. More likely he thought he was giving Ray an excuse to escape the tedium of this social event.

"Well then, perhaps you would permit me to be your escort in his absence? We had an arrangement after all."

"I would be delighted, Count Courland. Please, if you will permit me a moment to tend these flowers properly." Miranda excuses herself, carrying both bouquets to a nearby servant and requesting a vase. The servant accepts the bundles of flowers and hurries off to comply, promising to leave them on the reception table for everyone to enjoy.

"Shall we circulate? There are a few guests I haven't spoken to yet and I'd like to show you my favorite pieces in this collection."

Ray offers her his arm and allows Miranda to lead them both towards an older woman and her attendant.

XXXXX

"That's all, Jameson," Ray waves the man off towards the carriage house to put away the carriage and tend the horses. Jameson's rooms are on the top floor of the carriage house so Ray bids him good night before heading towards the main house. It is dark except for a dim light in the foyer. A glance up shows that the curtains are drawn in Florian's room. Just as well, he supposes. Ray will talk to him in the morning.

Stifling a yawn, Ray enters the house quietly. He douses the light in the foyer and locks the door, tossing his coat and hat carelessly onto the coat tree to be brushed and tended by Luc in the morning. He brushes aside the idea of a bedtime snack and heads upstairs, worn out from the hours of polite conversations and forced civility. Thank goodness that was the end of the arrangement with Florian's art thief. He'll be glad when she and her accomplice are out of the city.

Although he has to admit some grudging respect for the both of them. He wonders if they'd actually stolen some of those paintings during the parties – like the reception for the Spanish Ambassador.

Nearing Florian's bedroom, Ray hesitates, then quietly opens the door, telling himself he's making sure his blond had taken the time to properly tend his tuxedo. Florian has a tendency to leave his clothing scattered, especially when he is tired.

Ray is already planning how he will tease Florian when he realizes that the bed is empty. Quickly turning on the electric lights he hates, but everyone else in the house insisted on, Ray surveys the empty room, noting that the bed is neatly made and the wardrobe is standing open, the two dress shirts Ray had rejected re-hung neatly in their proper places. At least Florian is getting better about that. But, damnit! Ray knew he should have insisted on accompanying Miranda up to her hotel room.

With a sudden sense of dread, Ray races downstairs and into his study, slapping on the lights and heading towards the safe without hesitation. Everything seems to be in its proper place but Ray has a terrible, sinking feeling and quickly dials through the combination. Throwing open the safe door he knows immediately that something's missing.

Damn it!

The black velvet pouch that held Heart's Blood is flat and a lavender scented card is in the jewel's place. Turning it over he finds a message written in a delicate hand. "To ensure your silence, I've borrowed both your treasures."

Grabbing his coat, Ray hurries to the garage and starts the car. He ignores Jameson's worried call and races off towards the hotel as fast as the car can go. Taking the side entrance again, he makes his way as quickly and quietly as he can, not wanting to explain his presence or why he's visiting the ladies at this time of night.

Unlike a few hours earlier, the suite is orderly, and empty, with no trace of the ladies or their belongings. And no trace of Florian.

Ray storms through the rooms, his anger and distress building as he tries to decide where to look next. He almost misses the small fold of lavender paper resting on Miranda's bed.

"Good try. Treasures should always be kept where they will be most appreciated."

Crumpling the paper in his fist, Ray closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. He takes one last survey of the rooms, then manages to get back to his car without being seen. He considers his options – the train station, private car rental, even the museum but none of them make sense. The women can't take Florian with them without facing too many questions, yet where could he be?

With a growl of frustration, Ray realizes what the message means. Damn women – all of them, but especially ones that are too smart for their own good!

He slams the car into gear and heads towards home, both hopeful and fearful of what he might find. He parks the car carelessly and waves off Jameson who is trying to understand what his boss is up to. Stomping into the house, Ray throws his coat aside carelessly and storms upstairs, not caring if he wakes the whole house.

Thankfully, his employees are sound sleepers, as is the blond laying stretched out on Ray's bed, still in his tuxedo, but with jacket and shoes off. Heart's Blood shines against Florian's black tie.

"Get up," Ray demands, prodding at the unresponsive man. Florian continues to sleep. "Hey!" Ray pulls at Florian's arm. No response.

Realizing that something is wrong, Ray looks closer, checking Florian's pulse and lifting his eyelids. Florian remains deeply asleep, his breathing slow and steady.

Drugged, Ray concludes, giving up on moving the blond. He's carried Florian before, but he doesn't have the energy to carry him now. Ray is too relieved to do anything more than drop down onto the bed beside the sleeping man. He smoothes Florian's hair away from his face and carefully unpins Heart's Blood, setting it on the nightstand without a thought. Next is the tie and the expensive shirt, leaving Florian in his plain undershirt. The pants are a slight dilemma but practicality finally wins and Ray removes them as well, leaving only the silk undergarment.

He unfolds the quilt at the foot of the bed and covers his sleeping Amethyst before deciding what to do next. Now that the adrenalin is wearing off Ray is exhausted and the thought of sleeping in Florian's narrow bed instead of his usual large and comfortable one is not appealing. Quickly changing into his nightclothes, Ray shoves the blond to one side and climbs in beside him. Without knowing what drug he's been given it is probably best he stay close anyway.

He'll deal with everything else in the morning.

*****

 

Chapter 8

 

He wakes slowly, his mind and body sluggish as he struggles out of a deep sleep. He is warm and comfortable and doesn't really want to wake up. In fact, maybe he'll just stay here and drift off again.

Ray watches in quiet amusement as Florian burrows closer, hiding his face against Ray's side to block out the morning sun shining into the bedroom.

"Unnnn" Florian mumbles as he tries to get more comfortable. Unfortunately, all of that rubbing against Ray's bare skin isn't helping either of them settle back into sleep. In fact, it's having the opposite effect.

Ray closes his eyes and does multiplication in his head to try and calm his eager reaction to Florian's presence. It isn't working. Judging by the feel of things, Florian is having the same problem; he just hasn't realized it yet.

Another murmured sound and more shifting. Ray sighs; multiplication is not working. He places his hand lightly on Florian's head and caresses the soft, messy hair until he feels the blond settle. He knows he should slip away now and avoid the awkwardness and embarrassment to come, but he just can't make himself move. This might be the only time he will have Florian to himself like this.

"Hmm?" Florian's eyes are open but unfocused as he lifts his head and looks at Ray. He blinks and smiles, still not fully awake.

"Five more minutes," he decides, dropping his head down onto Ray's chest and closing his eyes again. His hand rests on Ray's stomach adding to the younger man's discomfort.

Ray leans his head back on the pillows and thinks of every boring, unattractive or just plain grotesque thing he can. It doesn't help. When Florian's breathing starts evening out into sleep again, he finally gives up. He has to put a stop to this before it gets any more embarrassing.

"Florian," he pats the blond head. "Hey, wake up!" He keeps his voice low but increases the urgency, thankful that it cuts through Florian's lethargy.

"What? What?" Florian sits up too quickly and almost overbalances in the soft bedding. "Aaaah!" He backs away quickly, grabbing a blanket and holding it up to his chin.

"Stop that," Ray grumbles. "You're not the heroine in a melodrama." He tugs the blanket down so he can at least see all of Florian's face. "Are you really awake?"

Florian blinks, looking around slowly, taking in his surroundings. "I'm in your bed."

"Yes. You aren't awake yet, are you?"

"Why am I in your bed?" Florian looks down, under the blanket and blushes. "Where are my night clothes?"

"Do you remember going to the museum last night?" Ray keeps his voice even and tries to control his amusement.

Florian nods slowly. "With Miranda and Agnes. But Agnes didn't feel well so we left." He gives Ray a frown. "I couldn't find you."

"I went to get flowers for Miranda and Agnes."

"You didn't tell me," Florian sounds a little like Noel when the boy is denied a cookie.

"Do you remember what happened when you took Agnes back to the hotel?"

"Of course. We had some tea and she told me about the book she was reading."

"Do you remember leaving the hotel?"

"Of course I..." Florian stops, frowning. He blinks several times, rapidly and looks up at Ray with a hint of fear in his eyes. "No."

"Miranda told me you had taken Agnes back to the hotel and were intending to come home. I escorted her at the museum and then returned her to her rooms. When I got home, I stopped by your room to check on you but you weren't there. Your ladies took me on a chase, but I finally found you here, in my bed." He reaches over to the nightstand and picks up Heart's Blood. "Wearing this." He leans closer and looks into Florian's eyes. "You'd been drugged."

Florian shakes his head, desperate to deny these allegations against the ladies who he still considers friends. "No, they wouldn't..."

"They did,'" Ray can't resist adding, "And I want to know what they used. It makes you drool in your sleep."

"I do not drool!" Florian nervously wipes his mouth, and scowls when Ray laughs.

"Of course not," Ray teases, making a show of wiping his chest. Florian blushes even brighter and tries to bury his head under the blanket.

"Not again." Ray tugs the blanket away. "Get up and get dressed. I'll go down and tell Laila we want a big breakfast." He gives Florian a smile. "Chasing all over Paris after you gave me an appetite."

Florian mumbles something, his head bowed as he slides out of bed on the opposite side, wrapping himself in the blanket he's still holding.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ray chides, sliding out of bed and walking to his wardrobe, thanking every deity he can think of that his previous condition has lessened. He stares into the wardrobe, considering for a moment before selecting one of his older Moroccan robes. He hands it to Florian and politely turns away while the older man slips into the garment.

"Thank you," Florian says when he is dressed, letting Ray know it is okay to look. He likes what he sees.

"It suits you," he tells Florian, moving close and caressing the blond's face. "Keep it and wear it for me sometimes."

Florian looks down, blushing, the blanket still clutched in front of him. Ray has a feeling he knows why, but knows better than to tease Florian about so delicate a matter. Instead he steps back and smiles. "Go freshen up; I'll see you downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes.

Florian nods without meeting his eyes and leaves the room, setting the blanket on the chair by the door without looking back.

XXXXX

It is a quiet morning with Ray and Florian working in the study, both concentrating on their duties and exchanging very few words. Breakfast conversation had been stilted and a bit of awkwardness lingers.

Ray sighs and sets down the list of expenses he is supposed to be reading. His attention keeps wandering to the man in the corner and the memory of his soft skin and warm body. Ray sighs again, leaning back and closing his eyes. From Florian's rigid posture and limited movement, he suspects the blond is having trouble concentrating on his work as well. Knowing that makes Ray feel a bit better. He is debating calling a halt to their useless efforts at working when there is a knock at the front door.

"Ray!" Laila bursts into the study. "There's a delivery – the man says it's for Florian."

"Must be the painting," Ray tells her calmly. He still hasn't asked Florian where he would like to hang it, but he at least has a suggestion. He'd given it a lot of thought over the last few days and decided that the little-used morning room would be just the right place to display the large work.

"Tell them to bring it around to the side door." Laila hurries off while Ray reaches out and catches Florian's arm, stopping him from following her out. "Come with me."

They exit the study and take a right, moving past a series of closed doors before they reach the back corner of the mansion. Ray pushes open the door and leads Florian into the room, smiling at the blond's confusion.

It isn't a big room and its most interesting feature is a set of heavy, full-length drapes that conceal French doors that lead out onto a small patio overlooking the herb garden. Florian had seen the room once before, soon after he'd arrived but it had been a small, dusty, uninteresting space and he promptly forgot about it.

To be fair, Ray rarely remembers it either. He prefers his large, comfortable study, surrounded by books to this little room. But…

Ray opens the drapes, revealing the little patio that is concealed on two sides by architecture and tall bushes. "I thought the painting would fit there." He points to the wall adjacent to the one leading to the patio. The wall is bare and the large painting will be magnificent there. "And since this room gets the morning sun, it will work well as your new office."

Florian stares at him, surprised and perhaps a little disappointed. "You're putting me out of the study?"

"Hardly." Ray dismisses the idea as ludicrous. "I simply thought you might prefer a view to staring at the wall, and the light will be better for reading and answering all that tedious correspondence. I'll even put a table and chairs out on the patio so you can work outside in warm weather." He moves close to his Amethyst and places a hand gently on his face. "I know you hate being cooped up inside. And," he smiles and leans closer, "you might even convince me to join you out there for lunch occasionally."

Florian's smile is as brilliant as the light in his eyes. He leans into Ray's touch, his hand settling on Ray's arm.

Which, of course, is when Laila bursts in. "Ray… Oh!" She frowns at the two startled men who jump apart looking both guilty and annoyed. "Here's the delivery." She moves aside, still frowning at the pair as they greet the deliverymen and direct them to uncrate the huge painting and hang it in the designated place.

When the men are gone with the empty crating, leaving only a small envelope addressed to Ray, the trio stand examining the portrait of Florian's parents.

"It's big, but nice," Laila decides, giving Florian a smile. She glances around the little room. "But this place is a mess. I'll get it cleaned up for you."

"Thank you, Laila. And please ask Jameson to have the car ready after lunch. Florian and I will be buying new furniture for this room and the patio."

Laila gives Ray a look but nods. "What about these chairs and the table?" she asked, referring to the only furniture currently in the room, left over from the previous owner.

"They're fine," Florian speaks quickly before Ray decides to replace them as well. Ray is a generous soul, but he also delights in adding to Florian's debt.

"For now," Ray agrees reluctantly. He'll fight this battle another day, or simply replace the old chairs when Florian is out.

Laila nods and hurries out leaving the men alone with the painting. Ray opens the envelope and scans the few lines. "Miranda and Agnes send their apologies for drugging you. Apparently they meant it as a joke." Ray's tone of voice leaves no doubt what he thinks of that. "They've included the rest of their tour schedule should we happen to be traveling in the near future." He folds the letter and hands it to Florian to read.

"Do you think we'll see them again?" Florian asks when he's put the letter back in the envelope.

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"I hope we do." Florian offers Ray a smile, reaching out to caress his face the way Ray so often touches him. "I seem to have a weakness for thieves."

 

::end::


End file.
